I’m Sorry I Noticed You
You’re right.
I should apologize.
It’s not like you showed up
and signed some contract
to be seen the way I see you.
So yeah—
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that somewhere
between the hours,
the conversations,
the nothing moments that turned into something—
I found you.
Not just a person…
but a good one.
I’m sorry your personality
doesn’t sit quietly in the background.
I’m sorry it pulls.
I’m sorry it makes me stop and think,
what if…
I’m sorry you became someone
I could actually picture a life with—
not the fantasy version,
not the rushed version,
but the slow-built, intentional kind
that people swear doesn’t exist anymore.
I’m sorry that when I wake up,
you cross my mind
like a habit I didn’t try to form.
I’m sorry I care how your day went.
I’m sorry I listen—
really listen—
like your words actually mean something.
I’m sorry I respect the way your mind works,
like it’s something worth studying
instead of just passing through.
I’m sorry your excitement
became something I look forward to hearing,
like your happiness echoes
even when you’re not around.
I’m sorry your voice
found a way to quiet everything else.
I’m sorry I want to be there
when things fall apart for you—
not as a placeholder,
not as a distraction,
but as someone who stays.
And yeah…
I’m sorry I care about you
as honestly as I do.
Because what exactly is a man supposed to do
when he meets someone
who fits him in a way
that doesn’t feel accidental?
Pretend?
Act like it’s nothing?
Act like a woman who feels rare to him
is just… another passing face?
I’m not talking about skipping steps,
rushing into labels,
or forcing some cheap version of love.
I’m talking about the kind of connection
you take your time with—
because you don’t want to ruin it.
Because you know
if you do it wrong,
you don’t get another one like it.
So yeah…
I’m sorry.
Because you’re right.
It’s not fair to you
for me to feel all of this
when you didn’t ask me to.
But at the same time—
tell me what part of this
was supposed to be a choice.
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